


pretense.

by tay_oh_three



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Broken Families, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Excessive Drinking, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, No Romance, Past Relationship(s), Post-Divorce, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tay_oh_three/pseuds/tay_oh_three
Summary: pretense/ˈprēˌtens, prēˈtens/noun1. an attempt to make something that is not the case appear true.2. a claim, especially a false or ambitious one.-[[a little break from my usual writing style, mostly inspired by someone *cough* @cyanacity *cough* from tumblr. find me !! @reinbowberry]]





	pretense.

Chase stumbled along the deteriorating sidewalk, drunk and miserable as ever. He would’ve reeked strongly of alcohol, particularly whiskey, if it wasn’t for the rain soaking him, bathing him in the cold, angry tears of heaven.

His chocolate brown hair was sopping wet, and so were his clothes. The path was illuminated by the passing headlights and sporadic lightning, preceded shortly by the loud rumblings of thunder.

The man’s mind was hazy at best, problems tossed aside as if they were nothing.

He bumps onto something, – no, – some _one_ after walking for minutes away from the pub he was thrown out of.

Chase vaguely remembers a middle-aged lady yelling at him, telling him to fix his life and never show his face to that place ever again. There was some screeching about how his children not being returned to him by drinking so much alcohol, or something.

 _Like she knows what I’m going through_ , Chase thought carelessly, smiling oddly to himself. He realized a little later that the person he bumped into hasn’t budged ever since he had addressed that train of thought.

“’m sorry,” he muttered, shying away from the stranger’s gaze.

Instead of avoiding him, the stranger holds his (her?) umbrella over the drunk man’s shivering form.

“What’s a man like you doing out here in such late hours?” The stranger inquired. It takes Chase a few seconds to recognize that he was being talked to.

“Oh-uh… um. I was uh… kicked out of the pub I was in, ‘s all,” he sputtered, voice thick with his accent and drunken slurring. “’m on my way home, actually,” he added quickly.

“Are you certain you could find your way home?”

“Y-yeah,” Chase replied, gesturing vaguely. “I’ve done this a million times.”

“I doubt that,” the silk-voiced stranger commented. “The rain will only worsen if you stay out much longer. Here, let me help you.”

Chase barely processes the statement before he felt cold hands wrap around his own, giving him a sense of comfort from the biting temperature. The stranger tugs on his hand gently and he follows, albeit a little hesitantly.

The pair reached a parked car where Chase was led into. The stranger enters the driver’s seat and takes off his blazer to place it over the brunette’s shivering form. Chase pulls it closer around his body, muttering a soft gratitude.

The stranger starts the car and drives to some path unfamiliar to Chase’s drunken state. In his mind’s foggy haze, he gets the idea to ask what the stranger’s name is.

“Dark,” was the stranger’s reply.

With that, laughter bubbled up from Chase’s throat, raw mirth enough to warm both of them up. Dark smiles slightly at this.

“Pray tell, stranger, what is it that you find so funny?” Dark said with slight amusement.

“Wha’ kinda name’s Dark? Oh an’ my name’s Chase.”

“Well, Chase, it’s… a nickname of sorts. A friend came up with it and it just kind of stuck.”

A blanket of silence fell over them throughout the ride. Dark must’ve turned on the radio at some point and soft orchestral musical played out. That, along with the gentle hum of the car, had lulled Chase to sleep.

-

Chase woke up bleary-eyed in the early hours of morning, laying down on some unfamiliar but insanely comfortable bed. He got up suddenly, quickly enough to make his head spin, as he saw himself dressed in nothing but a soft white robe.

_What happened last night?_

Chase did his best to remember, and nothing came up but a headache. He wasn’t sore anywhere else, which really counted as a good thing right now. It seems he’s in an unfamiliar room, clean and dressed with nothing but a robe, and terribly hungover.

He observed the room with half-lidded eyes, gripping his head while doing so. The deeply-hued curtains were closed, thankfully. He wasn’t ready to face the sunshine’s glare right now. He can hear muffled music through the walls. On the bedside were all his things, namely his wallet and his phone, and a glass of water.

He drank the water with no hesitation, half-melted ice cubes clinking against the glass. He sets it back down and falls back to the comfortable mattress, head too painful to question his fate.

The muffled music triggers a memory in his mind, reminding him of similar music along with the feeling of falling asleep. He focuses on it for a few moments. A knock on the door interrupts his train of thought. The stranger enters and Chase considers pretending to be asleep for a split-second but immediately brushes it off.

“I see you are awake, Chase.”

“Y-yeah.”

“I hope you rested well. I brought you your clothes. Here, I had them washed last night.” Dark hands Chase a bundle of clothing. He receives it bashfully.

“Um… thanks. Pardon me for not knowing your name, but, um… what happened last night? How did I get here?”

“I go by Dark. I suppose it’s only reasonable for you to forget what took place.”

“Heh… yeah. I was totally hammered last night.”

Dark hums in affirmation. “It was pouring the past evening and you drunkenly bumped onto me. You seemed not too far from passing out, too. I had hoped to take you to your place but you had fallen asleep in the car, so I had no choice but to take you home with me. You can leave after breakfast if you so choose.”

“Oh, thanks. I’m really sorry to be a bother,” Chase mutters, shrinking impossibly further into the sheets.

“I’ll meet you at breakfast, Chase,” Dark says warmly, tilting his head a bit and smiling. With that said, he leaves the room.

Chase gets dressed in the same clothes he had last night. They were nothing too fancy really; just an old band shirt and jeans. He pocketed his things from the bedside. Hell, even his cap is washed and dried. His hangover layered with the embarrassment of having bothered Dark made him feel like, – excuse my French, – shit.

He lets out an ungraceful sneeze.

“Great. I even have a fucking cold.”

Chase finds Dark with a little difficulty. He’s amazed and a bit intimidated at the sheer grandeur of the house, feeling even guiltier that he had to bother a man like Dark so much.

Dark was seated comfortably at the end of a dining table, a cup of tea in hand and eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He acknowledges the brunette silently and proceeds to have his breakfast. Chase approaches the table hesitantly and takes a seat.

The owner of the home had tried to engage in small talk with the younger man, but the brunette didn’t seem to talk much, until tea was brought up.

“Dark, you’ve been nothing but kind and accommodating to me and it’s been nice and all but I really have to get home. I’d hate to overstay my welcome, y’know?”

“It’s no problem. Shall I drive you home, Chase, dear?”

He visibly flinches at the pet name. Dark didn’t seem to notice.

“Where even is this place? I think I’ll just take the cab.”

“It’s quite far out, to be honest. I doubt you can afford it. Just let me help you one more time, Chase.”

Chase’s tone is getting increasingly frantic. “It’s really okay, Dark. You’ve been too helpful to me. This is enough.”

Dark sighs. For a moment, Chase thinks he’d escaped. “At least allow me to pay for your ride.”

The brunette couldn’t even say no. He lets out another sneeze, burying him deeper into his grave of embarrassment.

Said cab arrives not much later with just enough time for Dark to exchange numbers with Chase, insisting that the brunette must call him when he gets better.

Chase sat down in the cab, giving what apparently was a mansion one last look, trying to process what good in the ever loving fuck he has done in his life to deserve such treatment. He ponders it shortly before deciding to simply tell himself he didn’t.

Something stirs in his chest upon admitting it. It was a strange, freeing sensation. Chase shrugs it off.

-

Chase called Dark even before he got better.

A moment of drunkenness was once more at fault. _What could possibly go wrong?_ Well, it isn’t like Chase knew that Dark literally feeds on human misery.

 _He’s the perfect host_ , Dark thinks.

“Chase? I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon,” he lies conversationally.

“T’ be fair, I wasn’t expecting ya to pick up.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He was met with silence and the distant sound of clinking.

“Pardon me but are you drinking again?”

“Wow. Didn’t think – _hic_ – think it was that obvious? What’re ya gon’ do ‘bout it, Dark? Lecture me?”

“Oh please, don’t make assumptions about someone you barely know.”

“’m sorry. I jus’ thought you’d be like ev’ryone else. Tossing their judgment at me. They dunno what I’m – _hic_ – going through. You’re a nice guy, y’know?  Who on Earth would help a drunkard deadbeat father like me, right?” Chase laughs weakly through the phone before dissolving into sobbing. The call ends.

The unstable entity smiles, pleased. _This man has no idea._

Chase kept crying until his heart felt empty.

-

Chase called the following day profusely apologizing for his actions. Dark waved it off, saying it was alright. Soothing words slipped off his tongue easily.

The entity fed on Chase’s guilt.

Soon the brunette warmed up to the thought of a possible friendship with Dark. The entity was pretty persistent, after all; calling Chase every day “to ensure he’s okay” when all it ever does was to feed on the man’s insecurities.

It wasn’t too long before Chase began to slowly open up about his problems, and although the perfect-words-and-always-knew-what-to-say Dark offered neither advice nor consolation, he simply _listened_ , and to Chase, it was enough. To Dark, however, it was an advantage.

They started to meet occasionally and Dark would always twist their conversations into ones Chase found a little disconcerting, always near the point of uncomfortable but more often than not gets Chase to divulge information about himself.

Dark fed on the negativity that resided in Chase’s heart, effectively numbing him.

-

“Chase, why do you drink?” was what the entity asked one day they met outside once. The brunette invited Dark to drink, but the entity politely refused because he had a rare ‘alcohol allergy.’

“To forget, of course!” Chase cheers, slurring a little. “When I drink, nothin’ ever matters. Everything is fuzzy and distant. It makes me feel good.”

“You realize that’s no good for you, right?”

“Pfft. Stacy says the same thing!”

“You drink to forget, and you can’t stop drinking. The more you drink, the more you get dependent. Even if you’d want to stop, you won’t. You’re too _weak_ , Chase.”

The brunette’s expression becomes downcast.

“…Why’d ya say that?”

“Trust me, I know people like you. You’re all the same.”

Chase frowns, then asks the bartender for another drink. The entity inwardly smiles.

-

 “I need to really stop drinking. Every single day I do, I turn into an even shittier person,” Chase says into the phone, tossing weeks’ worth of laundry into a basket.

“Oh Chase, we both know this is a worthless attempt. You fall to the same habits over and over. You’ll never change, Chase. Accept it.”

He sighed. Dark knew a lot of things. Dark must be right about him.

“I have to go. Call ya later.”

_I’m a worthless excuse for a human. I can’t even be a good father or a good brother._

“Probably,” he added hastily, but the call had ended.

_No one will remember me when I’m gone._

_-_

 He traces his eyes over the cold metal object in his hands. A clean sharp blade he hadn’t touched in ages.

His phone rings. His eyes were blurry with unshed tears. He doesn’t bother checking the caller ID.

“Hello.” His voice cracks a little. “This is Chase speaking.”

“Chase? Are you alright?”

“Stacy? Wha-? Y-yeah, of course. What made you call?”

“…Are you drunk again?”

“No!” Chase exclaimed before letting out a sniffle, unintentionally letting Stacy know he was crying. “No… I’m completely sober.”

“That’s… good, Chase. The kids have been wondering where you have been, by the way.”

Chase smiles at this. “I… I miss them too.”

“Would you like to meet again soon? We could talk then we could pick the kids up from school afterwards.”

“That sounds really good, but, um… are you sure about that?”

“Of course! Um, I’ve got to go. My coworker Ann is calling me. Bye? I’ll text you later.”

“Uh… alright? Bye, Stace.”

The call ends. Chase tossed the blade away into the bin with a sigh.

Dark watches from someplace somewhere and huffs, disappointed. _Time to find another host, then._

**Author's Note:**

> find me on the tumble at @reinbowberry. you can send asks re: this verse.
> 
> \- rei <3


End file.
